


Heart Break

by the_chaotic_lesbian



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Hurt No Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_chaotic_lesbian/pseuds/the_chaotic_lesbian
Summary: “Still. If you die on me, I won’t forgive you.”“You worry too much.” Still, Caspar slides under the blankets, pulls Linhardt to his chest so that the other can hear his heart beating. It’s one of the few things that calms Lin down, and Caspar knows his boyfriend like the back of his hand.“I’m not going anywhere, Lin,” he promises, pressing a kiss to the top of his forehead. “I promise.”
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Heart Break

**Author's Note:**

> based off this art   
> https://twitter.com/emnide/status/1283419783174647808?s=20
> 
> which broke my heart and i wrote this to cope 
> 
> so have some angst

“Linhardt?” 

His boyfriend normally, at this time of the night, is holed away in the library, reading books and writing down the super smart things that he likes so much. Caspar knows him well enough to know that much. 

So when he opened the door to his own bedroom, and found a Linhardt-sized lump on his bed, buried underneath blankets… 

Well, it had surprised him, to be quite honest. 

“Oh hello Caspar,” Linhardt mumbles, somewhere from underneath the blankets. 

“What are you doing in here?” Caspar crosses the room easily, sits down on the edge of the bed. “This is unusual even for you, Lin.” 

He hears a heaving sigh, and then a tangled mop of green hair peeks out from the blankets. Tired blue eyes blink up at him, with an expression that Caspar can’t quite place. 

“We go to battle tomorrow,” he says, sounding exhausted. Well, Linhardt always sounds exhausted, it’s nothing new. 

“Yeah, and?” Caspar pumps his fist in the air, places the other where he thinks Lin’s legs are. “This is just another chance to prove myself!” 

“I know, I know, just…” Linhardt swallows, “be careful, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Caspar tilts his head, grins. “I’m always careful! Besides, I’ll have you ready to heal me, won’t I?” 

“...I suppose.” And Linhardt’s never been happy about being forced to fight and kill, but he’s just strived to be a better healer because of it. “Still. If you die on me, I won’t forgive you.”

“You worry too much.” Still, Caspar slides under the blankets, pulls Linhardt to his chest so that the other can hear his heart beating. It’s one of the few things that calms Lin down, and Caspar knows his boyfriend like the back of his hand. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Lin,” he promises, pressing a kiss to the top of his forehead. “I promise.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The battlefield has always been an exciting place for Caspar, and now is no exception.

It’s raining, on the plains, but that doesn’t matter one bit whenever Caspar’s fists hit the body of another soldier, when his axe cleaves through armor and steel and flesh. 

Killing has long since lost the appeal that it had whenever he was younger, a mere student instead of a general, and it takes nothing short of adrenaline to keep him going. 

He’s lost sight of his friends. Every so often, he sees a flash of red hair and knows that Ferdinand is nearby, feels the telltale warmth of a healing spell whenever he takes a particularly rough hit.

He should’ve known better to turn his back like that, though. Fighting on the front lines is no stranger to him, but this battlefield is… different, in the way that enemies come from all sides and everything is so open. 

He’s punching through another soldier when he hears the cry of pain, behind him and so achingly, hauntingly familiar. 

“Linhardt?” He spins around just in time to watch the outline of his boyfriend collapse to the ground, and the sight sends sparks of fear down his spine. 

_ No.  _

_ No no no no no.  _

“Linhardt!” Caspar sprints towards him, eyes the figure of a soldier yanking a bloody sword up into the air. Blood has never made him sick the way it has Linhardt, but he feels like throwing up at the sight of that sword, taunting him. 

“Hey, you bastard!” The soldier glances up at him just in time to take an axe to the face. The brutality of the swing nearly slices his head off, and Caspar’s not entirely sure he would’ve cared if he had. Not whenever his Linhardt is on the ground, his green robes dark and heavy with the blood he so despises, and Caspar  _ wasn’t there  _ to protect him. 

“Lin,” he says, desperately, once the soldier has fallen and he can drop down to the ground to see him. Linhardt’s bleeding so bad, and there’s a hole in his chest where the sword had pierced through, dark and gaping. 

For the first time, Caspar regrets not taking the war cleric certification that the professor had asked him to take. If he had - if he had learned faith magic - perhaps he could’ve saved him. Instead, he scoops Linhardt into his arms, tears his gauntlets off so he can press against that hole, hands soaking in the blood. 

“Cas…” Linhardt’s voice is dull, strained. 

“Hang on, Lin,” Caspar presses as hard as he can, earning a gasp from his boyfriend, his partner, his  _ best friend.  _ He can’t lose him. He can’t. 

“Caspar.” 

“ _ Linhardt, _ ” Caspar matches the tone, gritting his teeth. His eyes burn, eyesight blurry as tears trail down his cheeks. He’d brush them away, but that would mean pulling his hands away from his task, and he can’t do that. 

Linhardt’s hand lifts up, and he reads Caspar’s mind, brushing away the tears in his eyes. “It’s… it’s okay, Cas.” 

“No! No, it’s not okay!” Caspar’s hands are trembling, his body shaking as he desperately presses at Linhardt’s chest. “I can’t  _ lose  _ you, Linhardt, I just can’t! So you gotta stay with me. Who’s gonna heal me if you leave?” 

He shakes his head, a laugh bubbling out of him. “And we still have so much to do! So much to do, and see, and… and I only just got you, Lin, you can’t leave me now.” 

Linhardt coughs, a brittle sound, and smiles, even though there’s a trickle of blood trailing down his chin, spilling from his mouth. The sword must’ve hit his lungs, and Caspar can hear the faint, wheezing breathing rattling from them. 

And then his eyes close, and Caspar nearly has a heart attack. 

“Lin? No. You can’t sleep now.” 

“Just… one nap.” Linhardt yawns, blue eyes fluttering open, “it hurts, Cas.” 

“No… you can’t!” The tears come back, and Caspar wants to scream at someone, anyone. But the person that had so severely wounded his beloved is already dead, and he can’t do anything when Linhardt’s in his arms like this, so frail and much smaller than he normally is. 

“I love you,” Linhardt mumbles, and his head falls against Caspar’s chest, hitting the armor with a soft clang. Those words had once made him feel like the happiest person alive, but now he just hurts, a terrible ache that consumes his chest and makes his head fuzzy. 

“I love you too,” he says, with a pained whimper. “So much, Lin.” 

“Mmm…” Linhardt’s eyes shut again, and his chest rattles with the effort of one more breath before stilling. 

“Lin?” Caspar releases his hands so that he can card through green hair, pulling out the white hairband, clenching the fabric between his hands. Linhardt’s still now, but he continues to bleed out, soaking Caspar’s chest, but he doesn’t care. 

_ He’s gone.  _

_ He’s really, actually gone.  _

And Caspar sees red. 


End file.
